The Challenge
by luvcmpunk314
Summary: As WWE Champion, CM Punk is often alone. But he's been offered a once in a life time opportunity with one of his friends. The only problem is, he needs the permission of Triple H. Will he be able to persuade The Game to give him what he wants? More importantly will he be forced to give The Game what he wants for that permission? One-shot for lonniifierce. m/m smut, slight dub-con


**Disclaimer**: I do not know anyone or own anything from the WWE. Don't sue me, okay WWE? Thanks!

**Warning**: m/m slash, cursing, and slight dub-con

**A/N**: This one-shot is for lonniifierce. She guessed in my story Sweat, Chains, and Love that Punk's safe word was Boy Scout and requested Punk and Triple H. I'm sorry it took me so damn long to post this, I suck. Hope you like it!

* * *

Punk watched as the majority of the roster headed out to their rentals, ready to blow off some steam at a local night club. He wasn't going. There had been a few half-hearted invites from some of the friendlier people in the group. But he'd turned them down and he could see their barely hidden relief when he had. He picked up his bags and started to head for his bus.

"It's because you're the champion."

Punk turned around and saw Triple H standing there. "What?"

Hunter nodded at the departing group. "The reason they don't really want to hang with you. It's because you're the champion. To them it'd be like inviting the boss over to a party that was supposed to be for employees only."

Punk shrugged. "Maybe. I think it has a lot to do with me being Straight Edge. Some of them still think I'm going to preach fire and brimstone at them for drinking and smoking."

Hunter smirked. "Probably. You did play the Straight Edge Savior role pretty well. But I went through the same sorta thing when the Clique was traveling together. I was the only one not pounding shots and snortin' coke. It made them a little uncomfortable when they finally stopped trying to get me to join in."

"So no whiskey or cocaine, but 'roids were okay?"

Hunter's face closed off with a frown and Punk sighed in frustration. "I'm sorry man. I'm an asshole. I try not to be an asshole and carry on normal conversation with people but I'm not very good at it."

Hunter relaxed again. "Don't worry about it." He looked at his watch. "My plane is running a little late and I've got some time to kill. You wanna go and get a Pepsi at the Burger King up the road?"

Punk laughed. "Wow, you WWE execs sure know how to treat your talent. Sure. Let me just tell my driver where to meet me."

* * *

Later that night Punk lay back on the bed as his bus sped toward the next town. He'd had a surprisingly decent conversation with Hunter tonight. Normally all they did was butt heads over story lines when they talked but this evening they'd managed to get along fairly well. Punk had brought up how excited he was to get to walk out with his friend, Chael Sonnen to his UFC fight later that month, but that he was still waiting on approval from Corporate. Hunter had expressed his opinion that MMA and UFC were no competition for the WWE in viewership. Although he had agreed that walking with Chael would at least be fun for Punk personally. Punk couldn't believe that Hunter thought so low of UFC, so he'd issued a challenge. They would meet for a little sparring session. If Punk could beat Hunter, not only would he be allowed to accompany Sonnen, but Hunter would have to attend a live UFC event. If Punk lost he couldn't do the walk out. He had a friend who had a martial arts studio in the next city they were traveling to, so they were going to have their contest there. Punk knew he could win, more than likely Hunter was going to rely on nothing but brute strength, but had a plan to get around that. He grinned gleefully as he imagined making The Game tap out.

* * *

The martial arts studio was quiet as Punk bounced on the soles of his feet. His friend had given him and Hunter the use of his space after hours for them to have their contest privately. Punk was ready. He knew he could beat Hunter and he was going to enjoy watching him sit through a match and admit he was wrong about UFC.

Hunter came out of the locker room. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to this. He'd definitely let his ego, goaded by Punk's taunting, talk him into this. He didn't know any mixed martial arts moves, but he knew how to box. And he was stronger than Punk. If nothing else, he could use brute force to muscle him into submission. He headed over to the mats where Punk was waiting for him, clad only in a pair of thin, loose sweat pants. Those colorful tattoos that he often found himself staring at gleamed under the studio lights as his opponent shifted lightly from foot to foot with an eager grin on his face. Hunter didn't let that grin intimidate him. There was no way in hell he was going to lose to the skinny fat-ass in front of him.

Five minutes later Hunter was in shock. He was down on the mat, Punk's legs scissored around his head. And he was putting serious pressure on, not just doing enough for it to look real like in the WWE. Hunter hadn't been ready for the swiftness and pain of Punk's kicks to his chest and he'd dropped his guard long enough for the smaller man to wrap an arm around his neck and drag him down to the mat. The pressure of Punk's hold eased up for a moment and he thought he was going to get out. But Punk's leg came up and he slammed his heel into his midsection. All the wind was knocked out of his chest and he thought he was going to puke. With no more hesitation, he tapped. Punk finally released him and scooted back enough to give Hunter room to sit up.

Punk laughed as Hunter rubbed his chest. "Guess that didn't go like you'd planned, huh big boy?" Hunter seethed with anger. Punk had known that he was going to try to use his greater strength to win their contest and he'd been ready for him. That pissed him off and he was filled with the urge to knock the gloat off the dark-haired man's face. Without any warning he launched himself at Punk. He managed to catch him by surprise and Punk wound up flat on his back underneath him. He pressed down, determined to let the snarky bastard know that he was in control. But Punk wasn't cowed.

"Your gun is digging into my hip," Punk said with a grunt.

Hunter growled at the line from Pet Detective. "You've always got something smart to say."

"That's because I'm smart. Now get off of me. I gotta go pick out my outfit to walk out with Sonnen."

"Why bother?" Hunter sneered. "You own three t-shirts and one pair of jeans. Just grab whichever one is the least dirty."

Punk smirked and looked at him for a long moment. "Are you still on top of me because you want to be? Or is this how you get back at everyone who beats you?"

Hunter wanted to punch Punk in his fucking smart ass mouth. And that's probably what he should have done. Instead he lowered his head and kissed him. It wasn't a soft or passionate kiss at all. Hunter smashed his lips down hard onto Punk's just wanting to shut him up. But for whatever reason Punk's lips opened underneath his and so he slipped his tongue inside. Punk's tongue shoved back against his like he was trying to get him out of his mouth. Hunter growled again. He wasn't going to let the smaller man win this battle. He thrust back, their tongues engaging in a fierce dominance battle. He was expecting Punk to give up first, but in the end it was him who pulled back gasping for air. He saw a hint of desire in those olive green eyes of Punk's before they quickly sharpened again with his brutal wit.

"So that's twice you've lost today. Now you know how everyone you've forced to do the job to you feels."

Hunter narrowed his eyes and finally pushed himself off of the smaller man. "Don't you fucking dare tell anyone about this."

Punk jumped up into a squat and then stood. "Why, are you worried about it getting back to Steph?" Punk tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Or to Shawn?" Then he laughed and headed for the locker room.

* * *

Hunter slammed into the locker room behind Punk. He was furious. He wasn't going to take that little smart aleck's bullshit. Hunter saw Punk standing in front of his closed locker. He stormed over and pushed Punk up against the locker. Bracing his forearm against the back of Punk's neck he used his bulk to pin him down against the metal door. But if he was expecting Punk to shout out in alarm he was wrong. Instead he heard him say in a dry voice, "Geez, Hunter. At least wait until I drop the soap."

"Shut up," Hunter hissed. "Just fucking shut up." He grabbed the waistband of Punk's nylon sweats and his boxers and yanked them down, exposing his muscular ass. "You don't get to talk to me like that. You might have won that stupid little fight out there – but I'm about to show you what it really feels like to do the job to me." He spit into his palm and smeared it over his cock. Without any further prep he started pushing inside Punk's hole. He was tight and Hunter had to go slow until he was past that first ring of muscle. When he was seated all the way inside, every inch of his cock covered by that velvet heat he groaned. "Don't even act like you don't want this," he said hotly into Punk's ear.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't, but you'll never know now since you decided to just take it."

Hunter barred his teeth in a snarl and started powering his cock into Punk. He was determined to make the smart-mouthed champ admit that he liked having his dick up his ass. He reached around and fisted Punk's cock. He felt how hard he was and laughed. "Just like I thought. Hard as a fucking rock. You do want this." Hunter pumped his fist up and down on Punk's cock, his hand getting nice and wet from the pre-cum dripping from Punk's slit.

Punk's breath was starting to come a little faster but he _still_ managed to get one up on him. "Physically yes. But I'm always ready for a fuck after victory. So don't feel too special … Paul."

Hunter roared in frustrated anger and slammed Punk against the locker before he started brutally fucking into him in a mindless rage. But he was still aware enough to enjoy the slide of his cock in and out of the tightest ass he'd ever been in. He jacked Punk off more out of habit than anything – but he was appeased somewhat when he heard Punk's moans. He changed the angle of his thrusts searching for that one spot that he knew would make Punk fully submit to the pleasure he was forcing on him. He felt a shiver run through Punk as the head of his cock hit that sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Looks like I found your spot." He gripped Punk's slim hip in one hand and kept thrusting hard against that pleasure point that now had Punk spreading his legs and bending over as he pushed back against Hunter. Suddenly, Punk stiffened and cried out, his orgasm gushing in hot spurts over Hunter's fist. Hunter roared again as he felt Punk's ass clenching tightly on his cock, heightening his own pleasure. He doubled the speed of his thrusts, pushing hard and drawing out Punk's release while his own started to build. He threw back his head, groaning as his cock started throbbing and his balls slapped against Punk's smooth thighs. On his next breath his own orgasm shot up his shaft in a rush and he exploded into the hot, flexing channel of the WWE Champion …

Hunter woke up groaning and thrusting up against the sheets. He realized he was in bed and that he'd never followed Punk into the locker room after their sparring contest earlier. None of that from the locker room had been real. But holy shit, that had been the most realistic dream ever. He felt Stephanie's arm slip across his chest.

"Hey, honey. You dreaming about me again?"

Hunter cleared his throat as his wife raised up her nightgown and straddled his hips. "Yeah, baby. You know it." He groaned as she slid her wet heat down onto his cock, but as he started to thrust it was a slender dark-haired man he was envisioning fucking into instead of his voluptuous wife.

* * *

Punk walked into the arena for that night's house show feeling pretty good. He'd beaten Hunter the other night and Chael had been excited when Punk called to tell him that he'd get to walk out with him for his fight. But his good mood started to fade as he saw one of the corporate flunkies headed towards him with a scared expression on his face. Those yes men only looked like that when they were about to tell him something he didn't want to hear. He stopped and let the man come to him.

"Hey, Punk. How you doing today?"

"Cut the bullshit and tell me whatever it is."

The man paled before he spoke. "I just got a call from Connecticut and they've denied your request to miss the house show and go to Sonnen's fight."

White-hot anger streaked through him, but he didn't bother taking it out on the man practically about to wet his pants in front of him. "Where's Hunter?" he asked. The man looked relieved as he pointed out the door to the room Hunter was using for his office tonight. Punk left his bags and made his way over there. He walked in without knocking and then slammed the door shut behind him.

"You fucking bastard. Going back on your word just because you lost? That's low even for you. Maybe you should have understood that creative wasn't going to be there to bail you out before you agreed to the challenge."

Hunter leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers – the absolute picture of an in control businessman. "I'm sorry you think the decision was personal, Punk but it wasn't. The board decided it was bad for business for our Champion to be so publicly seen in a rival company's promotion."

Punk clenched his fists trying to hold back his anger. "I thought you didn't see them as a rival?"

Hunter shrugged. "The board sees otherwise."

Punk knew it wouldn't do any good to argue. He'd been screwed over enough by the top brass in this company to know that. He turned to go but Hunter's voice stopped him.

"And don't even think about going anyway. It wouldn't bode well for your title reign, Phil." The fact that Hunter had used his given name, as well as the way he'd said it had him looking back over his shoulder at the big blonde. To his surprise, Hunter flushed red and looked away. Punk narrowed his eyes wondering what the fuck that was all about. When Hunter didn't say anything else Punk just left the room, rudely leaving the door standing open behind him.

Punk went back and picked up his bags. Fuck Hunter. He could speechify all he wanted about Punk walking with Chael being bad for business, but Punk knew that his denied request had been the Game's own personal revenge against him. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contact to the C's. When the man on the other end picked up he spoke in a voice tight with angry regret. "Hey, man I'm sorry but…"

* * *

**The End**

* * *

**A/N:** That was pretty tough for me to come up with, lol. Thanks for the challenge lonniifierce! Please review and tell what you think about it, guys. Thank you!


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